Ferran Adria's Influence

The Most Influential Man In Food

He breaks down his food not to create something clever and witty on the plate, not to serve his ego (as these type of dishes often do with backslapping chefs), but to understand why it has the flavor and the texture it does and to then put it back together so as to challenge the diner’s preconceptions of how something should look and taste. A meal at any three-Michelin-star restaurant is normally a thing of exquisite beauty — tastes, textures and ingredients are all of the highest caliber, considered perfectly cooked and jaw-dropping to look at. But more often than not, when the menu says “rack of lamb,” what turns up is just that. It may well be that it is the best rack of lamb you’ve ever sunk your teeth into, but it is still lamb. Adria’s food moves outside this comfort zone — his tasting menus (one doesn’t get to choose the food), which are served in the evenings only (the restaurant is closed for lunch) can consist of up to 48 dishes, which are named and are recognizable. They require thought, consideration and are designed to delight, to create wonderment and surprise — most other chefs cook food simply to make it taste great. Ferran’s food is a challenge to the diner and more akin to the surprises and gastronomic games found at Ancient Roman orgies.

Adria: breaking the business mold

He has veered away from the normal restaurant business model — one that is based on financial return. elBulli is renowned for running at a huge loss. This is through Ferran’s own choice, though — many a chef would open every hour humanly possible to get as many people through the door, but his choice is one that means there is no compromise on quality at any point. He’s been offered huge sums of money to open other elBulli around the world and turned them down on the basis that he would be unable to be everywhere at once to control the quality. Maybe this was a wise decision — we’ve watched the Gordon Ramsays of this world fall from grace as they stretch themselves too thin.

That is not to say Adria isn’t a sharp businessman; he makes his money from the associations with his name and the elBulli brand. He’s sold 100,000 books containing some of the dark magic performed at the restaurant at a cost of $150 a piece (£100), all of which were printed by the restaurant's own publishing house. He has a range of supermarket books, a chain of fast-food outlets (called Fast Good) around the world and puts his name on a top-selling olive oil brand. He charges vast amounts for lecturing. He has a collection of kitchenware and has his own brand of cutlery and plates. He’s signed deals with Pepsi, United Biscuits, Lavazza, and the largest hotel chain in Spain, all of which is not unusual in the slightest for a high level personality — one only has to look at all the celebrity endorsements in Hollywood these days to realize how lucrative it is. The odd thing is that while some chefs have reached the saturation point and will put their name on anything, Ferran isn’t known for this sort of "selling out." Indeed, it goes virtually unnoticed, particularly outside of Spain. He is known as a culinary genius, not as a face on a supermarket shelf.

Adria: the humble man

As opposed to the many chefs today who will do anything to get in the limelight, he stays relatively far away from the heady heights of fame. He still doesn’t speak English, and at the San Pellegrino World’s 50 Best Restaurant Awards (which they won this year, again), he had to have a translator. Maybe this is what has made him so endearing to a public who are often fed up of the culture of celebrity chefs. He lives in a fairly basic apartment in the center of Barcelona for the time the restaurant is closed, and doesn’t own a car. He doesn’t spend his money on finery. This is a man for whom the culinary arts is everything.

His food divides people — some find the experience enlightening, inspiring, completely flawless entertainment; others come away feeling decidedly ill, or that they haven’t had a proper meal. But it seems they are missing the point: Adria’s food is like the outfits a top fashion designer sends down the catwalk — they aren’t meant to be worn by the public and would cause quite a stir if they actually were, but instead they filter down. The elements are borrowed to forge something more palatable — a hint at a higher art but in a more subdued fashion.